Carry Me Home
by paint my spirit gold
Summary: Post-Mockingjay. Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch have returned to District 12, but it doesn't feel like home to Katniss anymore. Will Peeta change that? One-shot. Read and review please. Rated K .


**Carry Me Home**

**By WordsxOfxWisdom**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games**

**One-shot:**

District Twelve didn't feel like home anymore.

After word leaked out that Haymitch, Peeta and I had returned there, people from all over Panem suddenly flocked to it. They claimed it was the allure of 'adventure' and 'excitement' but I had a feeling it was simply the fact that The Girl Who Was On Fire and The Boy With The Bread lived there.

Everyone who had made the district what it was to me was gone. Gale, Prim, Madge…So many more, I didn't even want to think about it. Haymitch and Peeta both seemed to be adjusting well. But, as usual, they had their liquor and their paint, so their lives were content.

But I wasn't.

I knew a good hunt would've made me feel better. Yet hunting alone in the very same woods Gale and I had traversed for years together didn't seem right. And I didn't know if I would be able to hold my bow straight. The thought of how many people I had killed with a simple pull of a string…

No matter how I tried to avoid the forest, though, I found myself drawn to it. The electric fence I had once tested every morning was gone. Not gone as in dead electrically, gone as in not there anymore. Taken down. For the first time, I could enter the woods legally. But entering the woods was honestly the last thing I wanted to do.

I sat by the stream, gazing around at the woods. I recognized them. They were the same ones Gale and I had been hunting in on the very day of the reaping for the 74th Hunger Games. I felt my gut twist at the memory. Why did I keep coming here when it made me feel worse? I almost wished they'd kept the fence up and live 24/7, like it was after I arrived home for our Victory Tour…

"Hey…Katniss?"

I whirled around to see a familiar stocky blond boy with blue eyes walking towards me from the trees.

"Hi Peeta," I say, my voice hollow. Ever since we'd come back, things had been odd between us. I didn't know if he fully trusted me yet, but I felt drawn to him. All the memories of kisses…They were real for me, if not quite for him.

Peeta walks over and sits next to me. I begin tracing designs in the flowing water with my big toe.

"You should go hunting," Peeta says, gazing into the woods, echoing my exact thoughts, "Maybe you'd be happier. It'd feel more like home."

"It's never going to feel like home," I say dryly, "There's no Prim, no Gale, even no Madge. All I have that's familiar is you and Haymitch. Besides, I don't even know if I could shoot a bow and arrow."

Peeta just sighs, "You know, Katniss, you act like this is horrible. Like we should've just let the Hunger Games continue."

"Maybe we should've," I say, flicking a bit of water at him with my foot, "It's going to happen again, you know. This, this new life we're trying to build for Panem, for the Districts, it's going to end. One day the Hunger Games are going to happen again."

"That's the beauty of it," Peeta says, his eyes sparkling as he looks at me, "This, what we're trying to do now, is going to be an inspiration when something like that happens again. People will think back to the Mockingjay and how she led Panem into a period of peace and prosperity."

"But why?" I say, something in my voice catching as I watch dark rainclouds roll in, "Why do I put myself through this? I feel so weak. I can't even make myself hunt, Peeta." I'm on the verge of tears.

Peeta just shakes his head, "No, look, you're not weak. No one who can make it through all of that alive can be weak. Katniss, you're stronger than ever. We all are."

We sit there in silence for a few seconds before I speak again.

"Effie contacted me," I say softly, "About all three of us, actually. You, me and Haymitch. Anyways, she was talking about us going to the Capital and seeing some fancy psychologist...Evidentally she doesn't know..."

"Well, personally I don't think I could LOOK at the Capitol right now, much less go there," Peeta says glumly.

I can't help myself; I start to tear up. Just the thought of how President Snow masterminded Prim's death…How he threatened to kill Gale if I didn't pretend to love Peeta…It's too much. Memories of the first time I got a taste of Capitol life, on the train with Effie, Haymitch and Peeta, the first time I was a Tribute, flood back. It makes me so angry, how I saw people starving everyday in District Twelve yet those in the Capitol had more than their fair share of food. How people in District Twelve regularly died on the job and most in the Capitol didn't even work.

Peeta squeezes my hand.

"It'll be okay," he whispers, his lips so close they're almost touching my ear, "We're all trying to deal. It'll be hard but we can get through it together."

Something told me he wasn't talking about everyone in District Twelve, or even in Panem.

I lean back and rest my head on his shoulder. Peeta's large, warm hand rested on top of mine. For a minute, I was back in the Clock Arena, kissing Peeta on the beach. Everything seemed to fit together…Nothing in the world could hurt us.

As we laid there in the woods, with the stream bubbling and a fresh spring rain falling, I realized that, in spite of everything, things would get better. And only Peeta could promise me that.

Eventually I fall asleep, dreaming of babbling brooks, fresh bread and a place with yellow daisies.

**xXxXx**

A rustling in the woods awoke me.

"Who's there?" I said as I sat up and my eyes flew open.

The rustling grew closer and I glanced around for something. I finally noticed a stick sitting nearby. I reached over and grabbed it, though I honestly didn't want to hurt anyone; I'd hurt enough people. Then I walked across the stream, towards whatever the rustling was.

It grew closer and I tightened my grip on the stick. Finally, whatever it was emerged from bushes and I immediately whacked it on the head with the stick.

"Katniss!"

Peeta stands there, glaring at me and rubbing his head, "What was that for?"

"Sorry, Peeta. I thought you were a…animal or something," I say apologetically.

"You hit me on the head with a stick!" he groans.

I roll my eyes, "Look, Peeta, I said I'm sorry! Okay?"

Then, I glance down and notice that Peeta is holding my bow. MY bow.

"What are you doing?" I snap.

Peeta frowns and stops rubbing his head, "What?"

"With MY bow," I say, smirking.

Peeta glances down, as if he just noticed he had the bow, "Oh…Well…Okay, so I figured I would go hunting and see if I could snag anything. You know, for dinner. Besides, I thought the bow didn't matter anymore."

"I slept that long? And hey! My bow does matter; someone else who will actually hit something can use it."

"Yeah, you did. And I'll hit something…eventually."

"Okay, well, just please give me my bow back."

"I'm not done though! I haven't even caught anything!"

"And this rate, face it, Peeta, you're NEVER going to catch anything. Just give me the bow…"

"No. I told you, if you're not going to hunt and get dinner, then I will."

"PEETA! Give my the bow!" I roared, my anger flaring suddenly.

Peeta's reaction shocks me. He starts to…shake.

"D-Don't hurt me," he says over and over again.

"P-Peeta…" I say, "I'm not going to hurt you…"

His eyes squeeze shut and he clings to a nearby tree.

"N-No, don't hurt me!" he keeps shouting.

I'm so confused; I don't even know what to do. I stand there and do the only logical thing-I wrap my arms around Peeta and hold him until it stops.

"No, no, no, please don't kill!" he screams, his cries echoing in the forest.

Finally, finally, the shaking subsides and Peeta's eyes open. He sinks to the ground and tears begin to stream down his cheeks.

I kneel beside him and he throws his arms around me and sobs onto my shoulder. We sit there like the for so long I feel my legs start to cramp. But I don't move, not a muscle.

Eventually, the tears dry. Peeta looks at me with eyes clear as day and says, "You care. Real or not real?"

I nod and speak softly, "Real." I realize that it's another step for us. Peeta knows the visions are fake-maybe he can see past them, the Capitol's lies.

**xXxXx**

We walk back, hand-in-hand. It's only the beginning, we both know. But it's the beginning of something beautiful. Something that neither of us understand, yet both of us trust ourselves to entirely.

I don't know a lot about romantic things. But I think its love.

And many years later, I stand there in the same forest, my daughter by my side as I teach her to shoot a bow and arrow.


End file.
